Page 18

CHAPTER 18

D awn painted New Orleans in shades of blood and gold as Amelia helped the Rowan sisters tend to the rescued fledglings. St. Louis Cathedral's ancient stones still smoked from battle damage. There were deep gouges carved into century-old masonry. Tainted angel blood and celestial steel were hell on architecture. The scent of decaying blood was an unholy mix that made her magical core recoil. She was torn between helping secure the young angels and getting things back where they were before Jeremiel happened. Thankfully, the Dark Warriors were working on repairs while also securing the perimeter.

Amelia’s muscles ached from fighting and channeling so much power. She wasn't used to either, and tremors were running through her hands as she worked. The Key at her throat pulsed, and its surface was still warm against her skin. As much as she wanted to crash, there was no time to rest. Not with so many injured angels depending on them. And one evil archangel to hunt down.

"This one's grace is barely holding together," Pema reported as she worked on a young angel whose wings had gone gray with corruption. The oldest Rowan sister's hands glowed from the spell she was using to try to force Jeremiel’s virus out of the victims. It wasn’t going so well for the eldest Rowan sister, either. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fought to stabilize the fledgling's essence. "The damage runs deep. He managed to get further in rewriting their DNA than I would have thought, given the short timeframe.”

Amelia’s brow furrowed as she processed everything they were learning. “It feels like the bastard was experimenting on their fundamental nature. I bet he’s been at this for a long time and was able to perfect his plans. That’s why he made a move when he did.”

"They all show signs of systematic torture," Isis added from where she was examining another survivor. Her eyes blazed with fury as she traced sigils carved into trembling wings. "Look at these marks. The bastard was carving spells directly into their bodies. I’m not familiar with angelic runes.”

“They're perversions of ancient Enochian," Camael interjected. Amelia felt him coming up behind them.

“That’s not at all surprising,” Amelia muttered as she looked around.

Young angels lay scattered across marble floors. Their violated grace flickered like dying stars. Some had wings caught between light and shadow. Their corrupted feathers were shedding darkness with each trembling movement. Upon closer inspection, almost all of them had profane sigils carved into their flesh.

"This is worse than Prague." Jo's wings rustled with barely contained fury as she paced around them while they worked. "At least there we knew how to stop the problem."

"Prague was demons," Az said as he ran a hand over a fledgling's head. "This? This is family turning on family. That makes it a special kind of fucked up. "

Little Sariel made Amelia's heart clench. The fledgling's condition had worsened since they'd brought her down from the battle upstairs. She was a few decades old. An infant by celestial standards but older than Amelia herself. That kind of time-fuckery made her head hurt.

She knelt beside the angel, choking back rage as she examined those gossamer wings. Shadow veins spread through them like cancer, corrupting grace that should've blazed pure and bright. Worse were those haunted eyes. Fuck. No being should carry that kind of pain, let alone a child.

"How are you holding up, sweetie?" Gentle. Keep it gentle, Amelia told herself, despite the fury burning in her chest.

Sariel's wings drew tight against her back as she trembled. "It hurts. He said... said the pain would make us stronger. Better. That we were chosen."

"He lied. You always had as much power as you needed. You’re still growing into it." Amelia let her hybrid power flow. Light and shadow twined together to ease the little one's suffering. "You're safe now. No one will touch you again. I promise."

"Can you fix us?" Another fledgling crawled closer. His grace flickered dangerously low. "Make us normal again?"

"We're going to try," Amelia promised, though her heart ached. Some wounds went soul-deep. She turned to Suvi and lowered her voice. “We need to move them somewhere until Jace can heal them. They can’t stay here.” It was taking too much energy to keep the humans away from the area, and the healer was working his way through the injured as fast as possible.

"We need somewhere secure," Suvi agreed. The witch was still sporting her Louboutins, but her designer clothes were stained with gore. Her usual perfectly styled hair was a mess. " I’m not sure we should risk the mansion after what that bastard did."

"We can take them to Les Auger," Isis suggested. "It has ancient wards that we continually update and a solid foundation. Plus, Izzy's crew is itching to throw down with any demonic bastards who come sniffing."

"That’s a good idea, assuming we can get them there." Pema's voice was tight with concern. "Some of these little ones aren't stable enough for transport."

Blackness leaked from the wound in Camael’s side. Each drop made her want to punch Jeremiel in the throat. Her archangel was a stubborn male. He refused to stop and have Jace heal him. He was too focused on hunting his fallen brother.

"Ayil, Araton, and Abraxos lost the trail again." His voice was gravel rough, and his fury was barely contained. "Bastard's masking his signature. Every time they get close, the trail goes cold."

"You need healing. Now." She reached for his wound. He caught her wrist in a gentle grip.

"There's no time for-"

"Bullshit." She cut him off and met those ice-blue eyes. They had captured her soul, and she wasn’t about to lose him now. "Jace! We need you here." Her voice carried across the cathedral to where the healer worked on the worst cases. "Camael has a wound that needs to be healed so he can hunt his brother."

Jace materialized beside them less than a second later. "It's about damn time. I’ve been waiting for someone to talk sense into his stubborn ass."

Camael growled but stayed still as the healer's power seeped into his wound. Their gazes locked in a battle of wills that made the air crackle. Jace snorted and continued working. “ Alpha males are all the same,” Jace informed Amelia. “It’s our one major flaw. We would keep going until we dropped.”

Amelia chuckled and shook her head. “It’s stupid. You will be no good to anyone if you die. You’ll leave me and everyone else unpr...” Her words trailed off as the Key blazed at her throat. Her senses expanded outward. Her hybrid magic flowed through her like eager hounds on a scent. She hadn’t realized she was actively trying to track Jeremiel until she picked up traces of his corrupted grace.

"Holy shit! I’ve got him,” she told Camael. “He’s at Old Sacred Heart." She couldn’t explain why she believed that. She had only gotten a direction. "It’s been abandoned since Katrina."

Camael's wings mantled, white feathers catching what little light remained. "You're sure about this?"

Amelia nodded. "Positive. Get the fledglings safe. I'll-"

"I know you're not planning on going without me." His frame vibrated with a protective instinct that made her want to simultaneously kiss him and kick his ass. "We do this together or not at all."

"Then get healed, and let's move." There was no room for argument in her tone. "These kids are evidence of what your brother's capable of. We can't let him keep experimenting."

His curse could've stripped paint off the walls. Jace chuckled as his hands blazed with healing power, burning out the rest of the corruption that would've killed lesser beings. "Done. Try not to get stabbed again, yeah?" Jace told Camael.

Camael inclined his head and turned to his AORs. "Move out," he barked. His wings snapped wide as he gathered Amelia close. "Rami, coordinate with the Dark Warriors. Keep these fledglings safe until we're back."

The Angels of Retribution launched skyward in perfect formation. Their wings cut through early morning sky. Amelia's arms locked around Camael's neck as they soared over the French Quarter. Below them, the streets still bore scars from earlier battles but a lot of the mess had been cleaned. The Dark Warriors were miracle workers. Amelia had no idea how good they were at what they did.

Turning those thoughts off, she tuned into her magical senses to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. From what she could tell, nothing changed, and they hit Old Sacred Heart like a wrecking crew. The AORs wings created thunder as they landed. The abandoned church loomed before them. The energy coming off of the structure made Amelia sick to her stomach.

The church's facade was a nightmare of profaned sacred space. Rotting plywood bore corrupted sigils that pulsed like open wounds. Thick vines choked the bell tower. Each tendril was twisted by dark energy. The wrongness had nothing to do with neglect. This deliberate desecration was one more item Amelia added to the list of reasons Jeremiel needed to die.

"By all the gods," Pema muttered as her power recoiled. Amelia hadn’t seen any of the angels pick up the Rowan sisters. She was grateful to have them there to help with this mess. "The corruption is in the foundations," Pema continued. “What kind of monster does this to consecrated ground?"

"The kind we put down," Malachi replied as his blade blazed to life in his hand. "Permanently."

Inside was worse. Jeremiel had turned the sanctuary into a nightmare version of a lab. Chains hung from the ceiling like perverted wind chimes. They pulsed with captured agony. Each link bore marks that spoke of torture refined to an art form. Blood was splattered across every surface, courtesy of the knives piled on a table .

"Sweet mother of fuck." Remi's wings drew tight against his back. "Those chains are made from fledgling grace."

"He harvested it." Camael's voice could've frozen hellfire. "He fucking used their essence to forge tools for his... experiments." There was no doubt about what Jeremiel had been doing in the structure.

“How did he do all of this in a few hours?” Amelia blurted as her stomach recoiled.

There were ritual circles carved into floors. The altars were covered in stains that would never wash away. They were a testament to suffering beyond imagination. Ancient grimoires lay scattered across workbenches. Their pages had been defaced. Amelia walked over and studied symbols she didn’t fully understand, but her hybrid magic did. "He was forcing light and shadow to merge. He was using fledglings as test subjects for some kind of transformation."

“I bet he was trying to create his own key,” Jo remarked, “since there was no way to get to you, Amelia."

Camael’s eyes hardened, and his sword appeared in his hand. "He was perfecting his own fall." Her archangel’s massive body vibrated with barely contained rage. "Each 'success' brought him closer to his end goal and complete corruption. He has been at this a very long time. The fledglings he took today weren’t the first. He's been conducting sick experiments here for a lot longer. The sick fuck has been kidnapping our children."

Toxic and hungry power surged through the church. Amelia went alert at the same time as Camael and his angels. Jeremiel's ‘experiments’ burst from hiding with unnatural speed. Some had multiple sets of pinions dripping shadow like acid rain. Others bore growths that pulsed with malevolent energy. Their bodies were caught between states of being as if they were fighting the process. Amelia hoped that was the case for their sake .

"That is just nasty," Jo blurted as she swiped her flaming sword through the closest minion. "These aren't fresh converts.”

Amelia shook her head. “They're as close to successful as he is ever going to get."

The fight exploded like someone had uncorked Hell's finest vintage of violence. Amelia's hands blazed with hybrid power as she launched spells to blow shit up, melt flesh, or freeze the minions in their tracks. Her hybrid magic created projectiles that cut through them like a hot knife through butter. Each of her blasts turned experiments into ash. They didn’t have the luxury of trying to save them while they were actively trying to kill them.

"On your six!" Camael's warning had her spinning around. She was already gathering power. The corrupted angel coming at her died screaming as she wrapped it in bands of twilight energy that compressed until nothing remained but goo.

The Angels of Retribution carved bloody swaths through the chaos. Jo moved like death's favorite dancer. Her blade took heads while she spun between enemies. Three experiments rushed her at once. That was a big mistake. Her first strike split one from crown to groin. Ugh, Amelia nearly heaved the contents of her stomach. The second lost its head before the first half of its partner hit the ground. The third tried to flee but caught her blazing steel through its spine.

Az had her back. Centuries of fighting together was evident in how they moved. Where Jo went high, he went low. They were poetry in violence and left trails of destruction in their wake.

Amelia gathered power for her nastiest spell yet. The Key blazed at her throat as she wove it into javelins that phased as they were thrown. When they hit, they erased minions. Five experiments vanished mid-scream. Their essence was reduced to piles of viscera.

"The east wing is clear." Remi's voice carried raw grief and rage. "There are no survivors here. Just... remains. It looks like his failures ended up as raw materials."

"The bell tower!" Jo pointed to where a handful of minions were banging on the metal. Jo's wings carried her through shattered stained glass. "They're signaling something. The bell has been turned into some kind of beacon!"

Amelia realized what they were doing too late. The air rippled and screamed as Jeremiel materialized among them. His midnight wings filled the space with toxic dust that ate away at the blessed stone. His laugh scraped across her senses like sandpaper over crystal.

"You finally found me, brother." Jeremiel pranced around as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was taunting Camael while his minions fought. "You’re just in time to witness the end of everything you hold dear."

"It's over." Camael's Sword of Light cut through a minion while he spoke. "Surrender or die. Those are your only options now."

Jeremiel's smile twisted into something inhuman. Those teeth were razor sharp now. His eyes were swirling with a void. "This was just one node in a much larger web. Lucifer's power spreads while you play hero. When the barriers shatter?" His laugh was like breaking bones. "That's when existence learns what true chaos feels like."

Camael launched himself at his brother. His wings blazed white against Jeremiel’s corrupted darkness. His blade sang for blood as he pressed forward. Each strike was meant to disable rather than kill. He was still trying to save what was already lost. Amelia felt for her archangel. She couldn’t imagine how hard this was for Camael.

The fight went vertical as Jeremiel took to the air. Camael followed. Their wings carried them through the roof in an explosion of timber and slate. The clash of metals echoed like thunder while centuries of shared training turned lethal. Every move they'd practiced together was now aimed at destroying the other. Amelia raced outside to watch what was happening. The Rowan sisters followed suit while the AORs stayed and fought the minions.

"Still following the rules, brother?" Jeremiel shouted. It was clear to Amelia that his words cut Camael deeper than blades. "Can't you feel it? The pure freedom when you stop letting ancient laws chain you?"

"All I feel is what's left of my brother drowning in madness." Camael's voice cracked with grief even as his blade left trails of holy fire. Each strike was precise as it searched for a way through defenses he'd helped create. "Let me end this clean. Before corruption burns away everything you were."

Hoping to help Camael, Amelia channeled her hybrid power through the Key. She channeled it into binding chains. She wanted to give Camael the chance to save his brother. For one perfect moment, it worked. Jeremiel's wings became tangled in twilight bonds.

His laugh carried echoes of the void between stars. "Impressive, little witch. But did you really think you could bind me with the very energies I'm learning to corrupt? Your parlor tricks are nothing compared to what's coming. The old barriers are already starting to crack."

His wings flared wide, and he shattered her bonds. The backlash sent her stumbling. Power recoiled through her system like a snapped rubber band. Before anyone could react, Jeremiel vanished in a burst of toxic energy. He left traces of evil in the air like a bad perfume.

"Son of a bitch." Camael cursed as he landed next to her. He helped her up and looked her over. “Are you alright? ”

Amelia nodded and placed a hand over his heart. “I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt.”

Camael nodded and cursed. "We almost had him. The fucker escaped. AGAIN!"

Amelia wanted to comfort him but her expanded senses were locked onto something else. It was something the Key was showing her. It was an artifact that hummed with recognition as she traced Jeremiel's retreat through the city's spiritual foundation. His corrupted grace left a signature she could track now that she knew what to look for.

"I can find him," she told Camael. "The Key shows me exactly how he's twisting the energies. And more importantly, it's showing me where that corruption leads."

Camael smiled as his ice-blue eyes blazed. "He’s going back to Lucifer, isn’t he?"

"After he retrieves an artifact, he will be." Her smile was pure predator as power gathered around her hands. Jeremiel couldn’t get away from them this time. She had a lock on this asshole and was ready to teach him a lesson.